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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28484988">Please</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qayin/pseuds/Qayin'>Qayin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Please [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Consensual spanking, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Pack, Spanking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:00:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,172</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28484988</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qayin/pseuds/Qayin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles knows he messed up right before it happens. Derek looks annoyed, then suddenly Stiles is lurched forward over the man's lap and Derek spanks him, hard, in front of the entire pack. Pack discipline, Derek says later. Except, Stiles wasn't supposed to like it as much as he did. And he needs it to happen again.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Please [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098923</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>359</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Please</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles know he’s in trouble before it happens. The pack is in Derek’s loft, trying to come up with a plan of attack, and Stiles’ talking a hundred miles per hour. It’s when he catches sight of Derek, that brief moment before either of them act, and Derek looks extremely annoyed. His eyes flash red, and Stiles realize his mistake. </p>
<p>Derek growls, which stops everyone in their tracks, then his arm shoot out and he grabs Stiles. The Alpha pulls him down by the cuff of his shirt, over Derek’s lap. One hand rested over Stiles’ neck, and the almost painful grip cause Stiles to freeze. Then, with his other hand, Derek pulls down Stiles’ jeans — which is a struggle and only manages half-way, but Stiles’ ass get exposed, and then Derek slapped him. Hard. </p>
<p>If the first slap was hard, the second one was worse. But Derek is a werewolf and could hurt Stiles terribly if he wanted, yet the smacks are human-strenght. It’s a punishment, yes, but something Stiles is supposed to handle. </p>
<p>The active part of Stiles’ brain shut down. He’s vaguely aware that he should feel embarrassed — that he <em> is </em> embarrassed. His ass is bare and Derek is spanking him in front of the entire pack. Of course he’s embarrassed. But by the fifth slap, his mind; usually running wild and crazy; is just a soft mush, anticipating the next slap. </p>
<p>The pain shoot sparks through him, but Stiles just softly gasps at every new slap. Derek’s hand on the back of his neck feel heavy, grounding him there. Derek’s lap is uncomfortable to lie over, but comfort isn’t on anyone’s mind right then. </p>
<p>Then, after the tenth slap, Derek pulls up his jeans over his sore ass and let's go of him. Stiles body feels like jelly, so Stiles just slides back onto his knees and remains seated on the floor by Derek’s legs as his mind tries to catch back up with him. </p>
<p>People are talking, but it sounds muffled, like it’s underwater. </p>
<p>It’s Derek’s voice that reach him eventually. It’s all cold and neutral as it speaks. </p>
<p>“It’s pack discipline,” Derek says. “My mother did it all the time.” </p>
<p>“Your mom was your <em> mom,” </em> Scott exclaims. Stiles is vaguely aware that he sounds embarrassed and indignant. “You can’t just do that to — people!” </p>
<p>“I’m Alpha,” Derek replies calmly. “We’re pack.” </p>
<p>Like that explains the whole situation. Perhaps it does. His ass hurts. His face feels flushed and his skin feels hot. An Alpha disciplining an unruly pack-mate. Punishment. </p>
<p>Except that Stiles wasn’t supposed to like it. But if it’s one thing his mushy mind knows at the moment, then it is that he <em> did </em> like it, and he <em> needs </em> it to happen again. </p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Stiles set out to be his most annoying self around Derek. He basically monologues at him whenever they’re in the same room, and he stays within arms lenght of Derek so he’s easy to grab. He stops wearing belts so his trousers are easy to pull down over his ass. </p>
<p>But while he can tell Derek is annoyed at him, Derek never reaches out to pull him over his lap again. Maybe Scott’s words got to Derek. Maybe Derek is trying some anger management-shit. Stiles don’t know, but it’s the most frustrating thing in the world. </p>
<p>He can’t think. His mind keeps wandering over to that moment when Derek’s eyes flashed red, and the sudden lurch forward, and the pain and the blissful stillness of his mind. He can’t do research for the pack and his mind is miles away when Derek is not around. </p>
<p>Over the weeks, Scott asks him several times if he’s alright, and Stiles just hums and nods and waves him off. </p>
<p>No matter what he does he can’t get Derek to repeat that moment. So when being super annoying doesn’t work, Stiles realizes that he’s not above begging. </p>
<p>Which is why he’s at Derek’s door, alone and nervous. He only has to wait a moment, then Derek opens the door, shirtless. He’s often shirtless. It’s not a weird thing. Except that it causes Stiles to blush like crazy and his heart to speed up. </p>
<p>Derek looks surprised to see him, and he glances around for someone else, like Scott, then his eyes refocus on Stiles. It feels like a physical weight, Derek’s eyes, and Stiles shifts a little under the scrutiny. </p>
<p>“Are you gonna invite me in or what, dude?” Stiles snaps and Derek steps to the side and Stiles slip inside. </p>
<p>“What’s going on?” Derek asks and close the door. Stiles moves restlessly in Derek’s place, and his eyes land on the couch Derek was seated on when he pulled him down the first time. He swallows. </p>
<p>Above begging or not, now when he’s here he feels kind of tongue-tied. Embarrassment is causing his cheeks to flush red and his mouth to go dry. But the only thing he can think of that’s worse than asking Derek to spank him is for it not to happen, so Stiles turns to Derek and swallows. </p>
<p>Derek’s eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. Stiles know Derek can hear his heartbeat and probably smell his whirlwind of emotions. He pushes the embarrassment away and squares his chin. </p>
<p>“Spank me,” he says as calmly as he can muster. Derek stares at him. </p>
<p>“What?” says Derek. </p>
<p>“Please,” says Stiles. </p>
<p>They watch each other for a long moment. Stiles want to squirm under Derek’s gaze, but he forces himself to stay calm and still. Derek is the one who break the silence. </p>
<p>“Why?” he asks. Stiles clenches his fists and lick his lips. </p>
<p>‘Keep your head straight,’ he reminds himself. ‘Wolves admire strength.’ </p>
<p>But asking someone to take you over their knee and spank your naked bottom isn’t strength. Stiles don’t care. He wants this, <em> needs </em> this. He’ll try his hardest to get it, his dignity be damned. </p>
<p>“Because I liked it,” he says eventually and his voice is rather levelled. It’s almost like Stiles got this under control. Derek watch him dubiously and crooks his head. His eyebrows are furrowed as he watches him. </p>
<p>“What, like a… kink?” Derek asks. Stiles flinches. He hasn’t defined what he wanted like such, but just the thought of it causes his stomach to flutter like it had a trapped a thousand butterflies and his knees to feel weak, so, yes. </p>
<p>Stiles nods. </p>
<p>“And you want <em> me </em> to do it?” asks Derek. Stiles can feel the blush on his face and nods again. Derek keeps looking perplexed. “Like a <em> sexual </em> thing?” </p>
<p>Stiles want to melt into the floor, but he’s come this far, so he might as well follow it all the way through. “Yes.” </p>
<p>“You’re a kid,” Derek says flatly. Stiles frowns. </p>
<p>“I’m eighteen,” he argues. Derek gives him a look. </p>
<p>“Yeah, for a whooping of a whole three weeks,” Derek snaps. Stiles can feel his mind starts to race with all kinds of arguments to convince Derek to do this. </p>
<p>“Well, it doesn’t have to be sexual,” he says and gestures widely around. “Just a few slaps, and I’ll go — think about how annoying I am, it’s basically just permission for you to kick my ass.” </p>
<p>“You just said it was sexual,” Derek says, deadpan. Stiles scoffs. </p>
<p>“Yeah, for <em> me </em>,” he says quickly, far too eagerly. He knows this. He’s freaking Derek out, and any second Derek will toss him out. But he can’t stop himself. “For you, it could be like practising your backswing.” </p>
<p>Derek glares at him. Stiles slinks back. </p>
<p>“You don’t play tennis?” he says, meekly. “Golf, then, or — I don’t know, boxing?” </p>
<p>“So what’s your plan, here, Stiles?” Derek interrupts him. “You want me to spank you, and then what? You’ll… go home?” </p>
<p>“I mean, I’ll probably go masturbate in the car,” Stiles says before he can stop himself. Derek raises an eyebrow. Stiles hugs himself and avoids his gaze. “And <em> then </em> go home.” </p>
<p>“And if I don’t do this, you’ll… what?” he asks lowly. His tone sounds a bit dangerous, and unfortunately that reminds Stiles of the moment right before Derek pulled him into his lap. He swallows thickly. </p>
<p>“I, uh, guess I’ll find someone else to do it,” he says slowly. He hadn’t thought that far. His plan reached so far as ‘get Derek to do it again’. Derek refusing hadn’t really entered his mind. </p>
<p>“Where will you find that someone?” Derek asks harshly. Stiles considers it for a second. </p>
<p>The internet, probably. Seemed easier to niche in, didn’t involve chatting up strangers in a bar asking if they would be interested in spanking him. When he said as much Derek growled and Stiles dared glancing at him. </p>
<p>He looked pissed. His eyes were dark and his expression was one of barely controlled anger. Stiles swallowed. For a moment neither of them spoke, then Derek loosened his posture a little. </p>
<p>“If it’s sexual it’s sexual,” he says calmly. “You masturbate here, not in the car.” </p>
<p>Stiles stare at him while he tries to register what Derek’s said, then it hits him like a train, and he nods. </p>
<p>“Okay,” he says. His skin is already burning. Derek watch him darkly and starts walking, circling him like his examining a prey. </p>
<p>“The safeword is apple,” Derek says. Stiles twists his head to be able to see him. </p>
<p>“Safeword?” he asks. Derek rolls his eyes. </p>
<p>“I’m not entering some kind of bondage, domination-play with you without a safeword.” he says like that is obvious. Maybe it is. Stiles feels a little tongue-tied, but manages to nod. Derek again gives him one of those sharp looks. </p>
<p>“What is the safeword?” he says expectantly. </p>
<p>“Apple,” Stiles says and swallows. </p>
<p>“Good,” says Derek and turns away from him. Stiles watch as Derek walks over to the couch. He sinks languidly into it and turn his stony face towards Stiles. They watch each other for a moment and Derek crooks his head to the side. “Take off your clothes.” </p>
<p>Stiles stays frozen for a moment, then he pulls his shirt over his head and drops it on the floor. His skin feels flushed and warm, and it’s a little cold in Derek’s place. He knows logically that he should have more thoughts running through his head, but Derek’s heavy gaze on him is quieting his mind, and the only thing he’s really thinking about is getting over Derek’s lap again. </p>
<p>He still pause for a second at the hem of his trousers. He casts a glance at Derek and can’t read his expression. Stiles pulls off his trousers and boxers at the same time and stands naked in Derek’s place. </p>
<p>Derek’s eyes rake over him and Stiles feel a little uncertain. Now naked, he feels exposed, and the feeling is exaggerated by the fact that Derek at least have trousers on. </p>
<p>“Come over here,” says Derek and Stiles body begins to move without his say-so. He walks over to Derek and stops just by his knee, almost so close that they touch. Derek looks him over, from his crotch to over his chest. They remain like that for what feels like minutes, then Derek pats his lap. “Lie down.” </p>
<p>Lying down on someone’s lap at a command is much more complicated and awkward than being pulled there. The first time, Derek had manhandled him onto a position and forced him to stay there, this time it was all on Stiles to manoeuvre himself right. </p>
<p>His could feel the blush on his face, which was made deeper by the fact that Derek wasn’t helping him at all. Stiles lowered himself over Derek’s lap, and it was only really when he was already down that Derek finally placed a hand on his neck. </p>
<p>It wasn’t holding him stuck like last time, but rather it was stroking the nape of his neck, gently rustling over his hair. Stiles shivered and wriggled around a little on Derek’s lap, and was about to twist his head and ask when Derek was about to start when Derek’s hand tightened over his neck and the first slap landed on Stiles’ bare ass. </p>
<p>Stiles yelped at the surprise and Derek pressed him still with the grip on his neck. The slaps were just as hard as they had been last time, and just like last time Stiles’ mind turned into a pleasant mush as they rained down over his ass. </p>
<p>He gripped the couch with his hands and whimpered and panted, and Derek’s iron grip kept him as still as he could get. </p>
<p>After ten slaps Derek paused and caressed his neck with a finger, still keeping him in place. </p>
<p>“Those are because you asked for them,” he says gently. Stiles shivered. “The next ten are because you were planning on meeting a random stranger over the internet to do this with.” </p>
<p>And Derek slapped him again. Stiles whimpered, and by the thirteenth slap he was a mess. </p>
<p>It was most definitely sexual. The first time he had been too caught up in what was happening to notice, but this time Derek’s hands were burning where they touched him, and the heat from Derek’s clothed legs were driving him insane. He tried to wriggle closer and tried to get away at the same time. Derek pinned him still but stopped at the sixteenth slap. </p>
<p>“Stiles, do you remember the safeword?” Derek asks softly. Except his voice was kind, which kind of threw Stiles for a loop. He panted, keeping his face buried in the outer part of Derek’s leg. </p>
<p>“Yes,” he says and wonders why Derek’s stopped. Neither of them move. </p>
<p>“Well?” asks Derek. </p>
<p>‘He wants to know if you want out,’ Stiles mind supplies foggily. Stiles grit his teeth, shakes his head and push his face deeper against Derek’s leg. </p>
<p>He can feel his own pulse beating passionately in his ears, and somehow knowing Derek hears it too is sexy. Stiles feels exposed, and not just with his skin. It’s what’s on his insides as well, and his mind is calm. </p>
<p>It feels like his Adderall, when he remembers to take them, except just… more. </p>
<p>Derek spank him again, and somehow that brief moment of waiting have made his ass sorer and more sensitive. Stiles cries out and clings to the couch, and Derek hits him again, and again, and again. </p>
<p>Stiles is panting and trembling at the twentieth slap. He’s pretty sure he’s drooled down a spot on Derek’s trousers, but he can’t find it in him to care. </p>
<p>And then, gently, Derek’s hand strokes over his ass, gently cupping one of Stiles’ abused ass-cheeks. Stiles moans softly, and Derek caress all over his sore, bare ass. </p>
<p>“Good job, Stiles,” Derek says softly and strokes him, and Stiles feel like putty in his hands. The hand on Stiles’ neck ease up, and Stiles slides down on his knees again, just like the first time and look to Derek. </p>
<p>He feels shaky and undone, and Derek watch him curiously. Stiles’ face feels hot, and he’s panting and sweaty, and he must be red as a lobster. Derek looks completely unbothered and somehow that makes Stiles feel even more flushed. </p>
<p>Derek’s eyes trail down over his chest and to his crotch. Stiles <em> knew </em>he was hard this time, but it still comes as a sort of surprise for him to see his own erect dick between his naked thighs, pointing upwards against his stomach. </p>
<p>Stiles take a deep breath and look to Derek. Derek meets his gaze calmly. </p>
<p>“You were supposed to masturbate here,” Derek says like it’s a demand, and Stiles swallows and without breaking eye contact takes a hold of his dick. He moves his hand, and Derek holds his eyes until Stiles moans, and then Derek’s eyes move down, to his lips and then further down. </p>
<p>Stiles moves his hand along his shaft in a fast, desperate rhythm, fuelled on by the way his ass burn and the fact that Derek’s eyes are locked onto his dick. </p>
<p>He watches Derek watch him, and then, slowly, Derek licks his lips and Stiles realizes, kind of for the first time, that Derek is turned on too. </p>
<p>Which, the moment the thought crosses his mind, feels completely natural. Because Derek wouldn’t have agreed to spank him and watch him masturbate on his living room floor if Derek didn’t <em> want </em> to see that. </p>
<p>“Are you going to touch yourself?” Stiles ask, and for a second Derek’s eyes flitter up from his dick to his face. He looks hesitant, but then his eyes drift back down and settles on Stiles’ lips. Slowly he moves and unbuttons his trousers, then pulls his own, hard dick out from its constraints. </p>
<p>Derek starts to stroke himself as he watches Stiles, and Stiles watch his cleft fingers move along his shaft. Stiles tugs at himself, breathing harshly.</p>
<p>His mind is still slow, but it conjures up an image of Stiles getting on his knees and trying to take Derek’s dick in his mouth. He’s never done that. He’s never even had someone else with their mouth around his dick, but kind of the same way he knew he needed Derek to spank him again, he knows he needs to suck Derek. He needs to please him, serve him.</p>
<p>So like every other impulse Stiles get, he surrenders to it. He lets go of his own dick and push forth, wincing a little as his ass hurt. He gets up on his knees and over to Derek, and he’s almost there when Derek stops him with a hand on his shoulder. </p>
<p>“What are you doing?” he asks huskily. Stiles looks up at him. </p>
<p>“Blowing you?” he asks, hesitantly, but the impulse is still strong and he hasn’t lost his nerve yet. </p>
<p>“We didn’t agree to that,” Derek says. Stiles licks his lips nervously which draws Derek’s gaze. </p>
<p>“Don’t you want that?” Stiles ask. Derek meets his eyes again and looks a torn. </p>
<p>“You don’t have to -” he says, but before he can finish what he’s about to say Stiles have already started to blurt out reasons why he should be allowed to suck Derek’s dick. </p>
<p>First of, it’s the only considerate thing to do after Derek spanked him. Secondly, Derek’s dominant hand must be sore after all that slapping, and he shouldn’t have to exert himself. Thirdly, Derek always tells him to shut up, so it could be good practice for him, because with a dick in his mouth it’s not like he can do much chatting anyway. Fourthly - </p>
<p>“Stiles,” says Derek harshly. Stiles look at him and he can tell he’s annoyed Derek again. But then Derek moves his hand from his shoulder to stroke through his hair and Stiles shiver. “Yes, just shut up.” </p>
<p>“See, you always do tell me to shut up,” Stiles says, but Derek rolls his eyes and pulls his face closer to his crotch, and Stiles focuses his attention elsewhere. </p>
<p>Someone else's dick in your face is a little overwhelming, but once again Stiles is struck with that image of somehow serving Derek, and it’s enough for him to try. He tries to channel every porno he’s ever seen and carefully licks the head of Derek’s dick. </p>
<p>Derek inhales sharply, so Stiles must have done something right. He puts his lips on the tip and slowly opens up, allowing Derek to slide into his mouth. </p>
<p>Derek moans, and Stiles takes a little piece at the time, bobbing his head up and down in a clumsy but eager rhythm. He doesn’t want to choke, so he keeps just the tip and beginning of the shaft in his mouth, but Derek doesn’t seem to mind it. His fingers stroke through Stiles’ hair, and it’s with that Stiles remember that he too, have hands. </p>
<p>He darts both of them forth and starts stroking the parts of Derek’s dick he can’t get into his mouth, moving up and down to the balls. Derek gasps at his administrations and grips his hair tightly. It hurts a little, but somehow the pain shoot through Stiles core and cause him to moan loudly around Derek’s cock. In turn, Derek’s hips buck up, and Stiles tries his best to suck him like he knows what he’s doing. </p>
<p>Derek starts to move a little more with each of Stiles’ moans, and he holds Stiles’ head still and fucks into his mouth, and Stiles’ head turns that soft mush again. Derek isn’t hurting him, but there’s enough pressure there to let Stiles know Derek could do whatever he wanted with Stiles, and somehow that makes Stiles feel hotter than he’s ever done before. </p>
<p>Derek fucks his face and Stiles does his hardest to try and get more and more of Derek’s dick into his mouth, and he moans and whimpers and Derek grips his hair so tightly it aches. Then, Derek moves to pull out of Stiles’ mouth and Stiles struggles to keep his dick in his mouth, and Derek comes, shooting some of his sperm in Stiles mouth and the rest on his face. </p>
<p>Stiles swallows what he can, but he’s feeling some cum dribble out of his mouth, and Derek’s staring at him. Stiles lick his lips, then raise a hand to wipe the cum around his face. He pushes his fingers into his mouth, hoping he got all cum. He suddenly feels nervous, and the look on Derek’s face isn’t helping. </p>
<p>“Come,” Derek says and tugs at him, and Stiles stands up slowly. His ass hurts when he moves. “Sit,” says Derek taps his lap, and Stiles hesitates, but when Derek sneaks both hands around him, grabs a hold of his aching ass-cheeks, and guides Stiles to straddle his lap Stiles follows suit without any complaint. </p>
<p>Stiles hiss a little at his aching ass-cheeks, and Derek smirks. He lets go with one hand, but the other is firmly planted on Stiles’ reddened ass. His free hand he brings around and grabs Stiles dick, and it takes Stiles just a few pumps by Derek’s calloused hand before he comes over Derek’s naked chest. </p>
<p>Stiles drops his head onto Derek’s shoulder, panting. His hands are gripping Derek’s shoulders harshly in an attempt to ground himself. Derek lets him put all his weight on him, and Stiles’ mind remains a pleasant blur even after he collects his breath. Eventually Stiles push his head off of Derek’s shoulder, and he dares to cast a look at Derek’s face. </p>
<p>He looks stoic and thoughtful, and Stiles shoot a quick, nervous kind of grin and stands up, slowly, because his ass is aching. </p>
<p>“I need the bathroom,” he says, even though it’s only mildly true, and before Derek can say anything Stiles flees into Derek’s bathroom and locks the door. </p>
<p>He pees, then wash his hands and his face clean of Derek’s cum. He takes a look in the mirror and sees his hair standing at all ends, and his face looks flushed. It’s a pretty good look on him, he decides. Carefully he rubs a hand over his heating ass-cheek, feeling the sting as he touches it. </p>
<p>Stiles watch himself through the mirror, and he knows he’s going to need this to happen again. It’s like a void inside him, already screaming for the next time, except that this void doesn’t scare him. He <em> wants </em>to fill it just as much as he needs it to be filled. </p>
<p>Stiles makes a thoughtful face and opens the bathroom door. He waltzes out, still naked, and starts looking for his trousers. Derek isn’t on the couch any more, but when he hears Stiles out of the bathroom he appears in the kitchen-door. </p>
<p>Stiles puts on his trousers before he looks to Derek. If he didn’t know better he’d say that Derek looked awkward and unsure of himself. Alphas rarely looked unsure of themselves. Stiles picked up his shirt and pulled it over his chest. </p>
<p>“Well,” Stiles says slowly. “Thanks.” </p>
<p>“You’re welcome,” Derek snorts. Stiles look at him and shift from one foot or the other. </p>
<p>“So, you think internet is a bad idea for this sort of thing?” he asks. Derek’s expression sours and he glares darkly at him. Stiles nods slowly, innocently. “So next time I should come here straight away?” </p>
<p>Derek raised an eyebrow and watched him darkly. Stiles felt a shiver run through him, a pleasant one that made him feel tingly. </p>
<p>“Yes, you should.” Derek says, and it’s not a suggestion but a demand. Stiles licks his lips. </p>
<p>“Okay.” he says. Derek watch him, and Stiles gives him a quick little salute. “Later, Sourwolf.” </p>
<p>“Stiles,” Derek says. Stiles turn back, and Derek looks deadpan. “Do you need a pillow?” </p>
<p>Stiles raise an eyebrow. Derek smiles sweetly, fakely, and the smile does things to Stiles he can’t explain. </p>
<p>“To sit on while you drive home,” Derek says, and Stiles blush and hurries out of Derek’s home. </p>
<p>When he’s halfway home, he kind of wishes he had taken that pillow. His ass hurts. </p>
<p>Well. Maybe next time. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you liked, please leave a comment; I live for feedback!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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